Thanksgiving Woes
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: This Thanksgiving, Roger is alone. But things were different before...


A/N: Happy Thanksgiving! I hope everyone who celebrates the holiday had a good one with nice, non-burnt turkey. And for those of you who do not, hello anyways. :D

I based the beginning of this one-shot off the 1994 movie "The Santa Clause," with Tim Allen. A lot of you have probably seen it. I love that movie, and it was on TV the other day, so I thought of this tonight, even though it's Thanksgiving instead of Christmas. This takes place while Roger is in Santa Fe. Enjoy, and happy holidays.

Note: _Italics _are a flashback. I'm sure you could figure that out...

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT or any of the characters associated with it. Nor do I own Denny's.

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**Thanksgiving Woes**

Thanksgiving Day.

Roger Davis sighed and stabbed moodily at his chicken sandwich. Chicken. On Thanksgiving.

He glanced around as he took a halfhearted sip of water. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised Denny's was open on the holidays; surely there were many single fathers who burned their turkeys in the spirit of thanks. And, sure enough, over half the patrons of the restaurant appeared to fit this profile; the kids scribbled on placemats and crawled over booths while the fathers exchanged sheepish grins.

The rest of the customers were Chinese.

Roger hadn't even tried to make a turkey. He had never cooked a day in his life, and there was no point when he didn't even _like _the bird. Besides, there was no one to share it with. Santa Fe wasn't home. Roger didn't know anyone there.

He sighed again and turned sadly back to his pitiful plate of mutilated bread, meat, and what once had been fries. Very little of the meal had made its way into the musician's mouth. He just wasn't hungry.

Thanksgiving three years ago had been so different…

_Roger woke slowly as he felt the mattress shift underneath him. He let out a soft groan and felt an arm slip around his waist._

"_Morning, baby," a sultry voice whispered into his ear._

_He smiled and opened his eyes. April lay next to him, the sheet wrapped around her body and her face inches from his. _

_He lifted a hand and stroked her flaming hair, drawing her face closer and kissing her deeply._

"_Happy Thanksgiving."_

_She smiled and moved closer as he wrapped his arms around her._

"_I thought you were never going to wake up," she murmured, burying her face in his chest._

"_What time is it?" he asked, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of her hair._

"_Past ten. I think we're alone in the apartment - Mark dragged Maureen, Benny, and Collins to the parade a while ago."_

"_To film?" Roger laughed softly. "I'll bet they were thrilled."_

"_It was their mistake, being awake. I'm glad I didn't get up or I'd be gone, too."_

_Roger sat up against the pillows, pulling April with him. "Well, I'm happy you're still here." He was silent for a moment. "What're we doing for dinner today?"_

"_Mark bought a turkey," April said, pulling away and brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Maureen promised to cook it if I helped."_

"_Maureen's cooking?" Roger asked incredulously. "Is that…safe?"_

_April giggled. "Well, no. But you know how Maureen is…she won't take no for an answer."_

"This _oughta be fun…" Roger snorted._

_--_

"_Maureen! It's on fire again!" Benny shouted, pointing to the flames eating away at the black turkey._

_Maureen spun around, seizing the fire extinguisher and attacking the burned bird for the fourth time._

"_DIE!" she screamed, a slightly crazed gleam in her eyes._

_Collins and Mark exchanged an apprehensive look while Roger and April, a safe distance away from the fiasco, stifled grins._

"_I _told _you we should have gone for Chinese!" Benny repeated for the fifth time, throwing his hands up in the air. "I _told _you!"_

_Maureen turned to him, the hose extended like a weapon. "Don't mess with me, Benjamin. I swear I will shove this thing up your-"_

"_Guys, guys!" Mark intervened, stepping forward with his hands held up in surrender. "Can you two stop for even five minutes?"_

"_Maureen burned the turkey!" Benny accused._

"_Well, excuse me, Mr. I-Know-Everything, but I didn't see _you _offering to help!" Maureen shot back, slamming the extinguisher onto the counter. Beside her, the ruined turkey was smoking._

"_It's okay, Maureen," April said soothingly, sliding forward and putting an arm around her friend's shoulders. "You did your best."_

"_I just wanted to actually cook something right," Maureen sniffled. "For once."_

"_Well, maybe you should start with something a little less complicated," Collins suggested. "Like…toast."_

_Maureen's lip wobbled. "I can't even do toast!" she wailed suddenly. "I burnt Mark's this morning!"_

_Mark hugged his girlfriend. "It tasted fine, Mo," he lied._

"_Really?" she asked hopefully._

"_Yep," he said, grinning._

"_Then you'll let me make you breakfast every morning?" Maureen pressed._

_Mark's grin slipped slightly, but he gulped and nodded. "If you want…"_

_April stepped forward quickly. "Let's go out, guys. There's that sushi bar down the street. It's always open."_

"_Sounds good," Roger seconded._

_Maureen sighed. "Okay."_

_They were headed for the door when Collins wrinkled his nose._

"_Does something smell…?"_

_Benny wheeled around. "Maureen! Fire!"_

Now Roger was eating a chicken sandwich far from home and his friends. He had never felt so alone in his life.

"Burn your turkey, too?" A voice called, and Roger looked up automatically to see a man with two small kids smiling sympathetically at him.

"No," Roger replied. "Not this year," he added softly, lowering his head. He wished a turkey was all that had been ruined.

There wasn't much to be thankful for now. Life, maybe.

Roger lifted his glass.

"To life," he toasted quietly.

_Happy Thankgiving._

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A/N: Review?


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